


Strays

by retrovertigo (ellameno)



Category: Mad Max Series (Movies)
Genre: Adopted Children, Adopted Sibling Relationship, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Families of Choice, Foster Care, Gangs, Gen, Girl Saves Boy, Homelessness, Male-Female Friendship, Max owns dogs, Other, Prompt Fill, runaways - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-07
Updated: 2015-07-07
Packaged: 2018-04-08 04:08:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4290237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellameno/pseuds/retrovertigo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[MODERN AU] Over the years Furiosa Concannon somehow acquired five daughters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Strays

**Author's Note:**

> This was requested by a friend, I hope she enjoys it. <3

         Over the years Furiosa Concannon somehow acquired five daughters.

         It happened gradually, and was certainly not intentional, but she couldn’t help but see herself in each of them. After the violent death of her mother, Furiosa had grown up on the streets. Alone. No home or comfort. No family or anything stable to cling to. Her young self had gotten involved in some less-than-legal operations, and did a few things that still haunted her to this day. Now, as a grown woman, she vowed she wouldn’t let any other girl who crossed her path go through the same ordeal.

         The first adoptee was a pint-sized panhandler who stole a loaf of sliced bread from the grocer Furiosa frequented. She resolved the volatile situation by telling the enraged store clerk that she’d pay for it herself, so long as he didn’t call the cops on the teen. For the girl now affectionately called Toast, a chance meeting became a night on a stranger’s couch, which turned into a permanent home. Furiosa enjoyed Toast’s company more than expected, and it inspired her to open her abode more often.

         Next came a street fortune teller that Toast befriended during her homeless days. She was known only as “The Dag”, and her backstory changed with the weather. The wispy blonde built a strange altar in the mudroom, and would do daily prayers with hand motions Furiosa had never seen before, claiming she was casting some sort of protection over the house. Sometimes Furiosa heard “keep Joe away” in the hushed chants, though she knew better than to inquire about it.

         Soon followed a stone-faced redhead who fled from a broken home with her fragile step-sister in tow. The redhead was wise beyond her years and often buried herself in old encyclopedias. She didn’t speak unless she had something to say, but was kind and loving all the same. She was tenderhearted, towards humans and animals alike, and would often feed birds from her window with her sister. Her young sibling did not like conflict but also could be quite stubborn when pushed. She was the most naif out of all of the girls, and had grown attached to the Dag, believing in all her magic.

         And most recently Angharad, who had been kicked out of her foster’s house for becoming pregnant. She hadn’t revealed who the father was, but Furiosa knew deep down it was not a child conceived from love. Angharad possessed a feminine strength and was motherly to her new sisters. She was beloved by the girls, who fawned over her and talked excitedly about their soon-to-be nephew. She had a softness Furiosa did not, and they complimented each other well, like light and shade.

         ---

         It was the end of an unusually balmy spring day. Each year got hotter, it seemed, and her ancient uninsulated home was starting to feel the effects. The doors stuck shut, and the rusted knobs sweated. She prayed no thug would flick a cigarette in their direction, or else the whole place may go up like a tinder box.

         Furiosa had managed to find and repair an old AC unit, which was now installed in the living room. Her daughters were lazily sprawled on the floor and the couch, as she poured over the bills at the kitchen table.

         “When is this heatwave gonna let up?” whined Cheedo, the fragile one. “I’m burning to death.”

         “You think it’s bad now? One day everything in this world will catch fire,” Said the Dag nonchalantly, “And our neighborhood will be nothing but ash and sand for as far as the eye can see.”

         Cheedo covered her ears. “Don’t say that.”

         “It’s true, I can see it now.” The blonde continued dreamily. Capable scowled up from her book.

         “Stop it, you’re upsetting her.” Angharad scolded. “You know she doesn’t like change of any sort, let alone this blazing apocalypse you’re going on about.”

         “It’s not an apocalypse, it’s global warming.” Toast said matter-of-factly.

         “Can’t your soothsaying be, I dunno, a little more soothing?” Angharad pleaded.

         “When the unfiltered beams of the sun descend down upon us, Toast will become ever toastier.” The Dag proclaimed.

         Toast snorted through her nose.

         “Alright, enough.” Furiosa said. “Put on some TV or something.”

         Cheedo dropped to the floor and grabbed the remote eagerly, clicking it on.

          _[“--- resulted in another crash on Miller street, causing storefront damage.”]_

          _[“It’s a mess. Lucky no one was out at that hour.”]_

          _[“A witness says the teens may have purposefully rammed the other vehicle off the road.”]_

         “What’s that now?” Furiosa asked, looking up from her task.

         “Gang violence, mum.” Toast replied. “Those War Boys, or _whatever_ they call themselves. The skinhead hoons.”

         Furiosa noticed the Dag and Angharad had become very still and weren’t looking at the screen. Even Capable appeared uncomfortable.

         “Alright well, someone change the channel.” Furiosa said. “For Cheedo’s sake.”

         “I’m fine.” Cheedo chirped, resting her chin on her hands. “They’re just a bunch of idiots.”

         “That’s what paint-huffing does to you.” Toast agreed. “Kooky crazy low-lives.”

         Capable slammed her heavy book shut, making them all jump, except Cheedo who shrieked.

         “What was that?” Furiosa leapt from her chair, alarmed by the sound.

         All the girls were looking at Capable, who was staring at the ground, brows furrowed in anger.

         “Capable, what the hell?” Toast yelled.

         “I...” She croaked. “I need to do my homework. Away from all of you.” She clutched her book to her chest and ran upstairs.

         The girls gaped at each other bewilderedly. Capable was always so cool headed.

         “She’s a weirdo, innit she?” The Dag muttered, raising her eyebrows.

         “Is something up with her?” Furiosa asked the group. They all shrugged. “Splendid?”

         “I honestly dunno.” Angharad answered, her eyes wide.

         “Alright, TV’s a bad idea.” Furiosa said, walking over and turning it off. “No more lying around. It’s homework, chores, or helping with dinner. Your choice.”

         The younger girls groaned but slowly unstuck themselves from their resting places. They always obeyed Furiosa. She’d given them so much and only asked for good behavior and helpfulness in return.

         Angharad started to get up too.

         “No, no, stay.” Furiosa urged.

         “No, let me cook.” Angharad waved her hand. “I like to do things, otherwise I just feel like a lump.”

         Furiosa helped her to her feet and led her to the kitchen, pulling out a chair for Angharad to sit on.

         “I’ll get the trash, you figure out what to make." Furiosa said, grabbing the overstuffed bag from under the sink.

         ---

         The dry grass of the patchy lawn crunched under her boots. It may have seemed bad inside, but was sweltering out here. She thanked her lucky stars that AC unit had fallen into her lap, and her girls would not succumb to heatstroke. She wished she could provide them more than the shabby old home, but reminded herself they were better off than where they were. Those girls wouldn’t survive long on the streets in this weather. It had never been this bad when Furiosa was their age.

         She wrinkled her nose at the smell of hot garbage as she dropped the bag in the alley way rubbish bin.

         "Y'know some kid's been diggin’ through there." Came a voice.

         She spun around. Her neighbor Max was in the adjacent yard, staring at her from the side of his eye. He was washing some dog she’d never seen before in a tin basin.

         "Didn't know you could speak.” Furiosa raised an eyebrow.

         He shrugged back lazily, and sprayed the soapy hound with a hose.

         Mad Max, as the kids named him, was... eccentric. Dirty, quiet, lumbering, and harmless. He kept a watchful eye on the neighborhood, and Furiosa knew he had a sawed-off shotgun somewhere. When he was out of his rickety old house, he could be seen chopping wood or working on his half-assembled car with various parts spilling onto his dead lawn. There were always dogs in his yard, of the friendly tail-wagging variety.

         Though he never talked, he and Furiosa had a mutual respect. They recognized each other as kindred spirits, both taking in their own kinds of strays.

         “There’s been a rat in my trash, you say?”

         Max nodded.

         “I’ll keep an eye out. I trust I don’t have to ask you to do the same.”

         He smirked and continued washing the canine. She began to walk away, but stopped herself. She turned back to the scraggly man.

         “You’re a good neighbor, Max.” She told him. “My daughters have told me they feel safer with you around. And it’s comforting to know someone’s got my back.”

         He glanced up, but said nothing. His eyes again had that silent affirmation she knew so well. Something loyal, like the dogs he surrounded himself with. Max lived authentically and didn’t put on a mask made of false smiles and shallow pleasantries, like the other neighbors. She learned to trust no one, and yet felt compelled to trust him.

         “Night, Max.” She said, in a softer tone she usually reserved for her girls. “Stay cool.”

         He gave a small clumsy wave.

         Someone had once told her you could know the goodness of a man’s soul by how he treated creatures smaller than himself. She had never seen a dog more serene than the ones in Max’s care. It put her at ease as well.

         ---

         They dined on a humble meal of chicken and broccoli casserole, prepared lovingly by Angharad (with help from Furiosa), and chatted about school politics. They interpreted Furiosa’s silence as disinterest, but unbeknownst to them, she was busy stewing up a plan in the back of her head.

         Though her girls had been fed, homework checked, and sent up to bed, her role as guardian and protector was not yet finished.

         Furiosa sat on their veranda. Lights out, cast completely in shadow. Clutching her firearm in her hand. Waiting. Her ears searched for any telltale sign of an unwanted guest on her property.

         For the longest time it was nothing but the occasional police siren and the constant din of crickets. Furiosa considered giving up. There was no guarantee who ever had be prowling around would return this night.

         Her persistence payed off. She heard footsteps on gravel, followed by a soft clanging sound.

         Furiosa sprung to her feet and raced down the stairs into the alley.

         “Freeze right where you are.” She seethed.

         The figure in the alley turned around quickly, illuminated in a ghostly light by the street lamp. He was just a teenager, like Max had said, but if she didn’t know better she’d have mistook him for the walking dead. His head was shaved, and his face dirtied with black stains, possibly grease. He was pallid and shirtless except for a tattered leather jacket that looked too big for him. He raised his hands in the air in surrender.

         “What are you doing here?!” She demanded, brandishing the rifle at him.

         “N-nothing! I--”

         “I know you creep around here at night. My neighbor told me.”

         “I-- OK...” He took a deep breath. “Ma’am, I’m just here because your daughter---”

         “You’re after my daughters?” She cocked the gun menacingly.

         “No!!” He waved his hands. “Not like-- _I just_ \--”

         “Why are you creeping around here?” Her impatience showed in her voice.

         “I came here for food.” He said with a quivering voice.

         “Food?”

         “Your daughter! The red-haired one! She saves dinner scraps for me.”

         The inferno in Furiosa’s chest quelled slightly.

         “Why can’t you go eat your own dinner?” She interrogated.

         “I don’t have anywhere to go. I don’t have a home.” He shook his head.

         Something in her faltered, but she caught herself and readjusted her firearm.

         “Please, ma’am! Please don’t!” He squeaked.

         She heard a window open. It was Max next door. He pulled out a sawed-off shotgun and held it up, questioningly.

         “I’ve got it under control.” She called to him.

         Max nodded at Furiosa, and lowered his weapon, but kept an eye fixed on the teenager.

         “If he runs, I’ll shoot him.” She threatened.

         “This is not how I’m supposed to die!” The boy cried.

         Max muttered something that sounded like “Then don’t run.”

         Another window opened.

         “Ma, don’t hurt that boy!”

         Furiosa recognized the voice as the daughter she affectionately dubbed Capable. She’d become expert at knowing each girl by voice alone.

         “Do you know this punk?” Furiosa growled.

         “He’s not a _punk,_ he’s a nice boy.” Said Capable.

         “He looks like he’s from that paint-huffing gang on the news. You know what that boss of their’s does to women.”

         “Was! _Was!_ ” The boy shouted.

         “He’s not with them anymore. He’s a good boy, mum _just listen!_ ”

         “Have you been feeding this hoon? Is that why you’ve been saving your dinner?”

         “Yes, mum. He comes to the window at night and I give him my leftovers.”

         Furiosa looked him over again. He seemed less threatening now. Somewhat scrawny. His brows were upturned and worried, and his chapped scarred lips quivered. Most pathetic zombie she’d ever seen.

         Furiosa sighed and reluctantly lowered her weapon. The boy clutched his chest and panted, as though he might collapse. She heard Max chuckle from his window.

         “Alright, both of you kids.” She ordered. "We need to have a chat inside. _Now_.” 

         She forcefully grabbed the boy by his arm, who gasped in surprise, and he stumbled along with her.

         ---

         Here they were, at two in the morning, the three of them in Furiosa’s modest kitchen. Capable had chosen to sit on the counter, while the other two were seated at the table. Furiosa sat directly across from the teen boy, staring him down. He was on his second helping of casserole, shoveling it into his mouth like a ravenous animal.

         He felt her stare. “This is delicious, ma’am.” He said, mouth full.

         “I didn’t make it.” She responded coldly.

         “W-Well, whoever did, I give them my regards.” He clumsily raised a glass of water to his dried out lips, looking back at her uneasily.

         “What is your name?” She asked.

         He mumbled something unintelligible, like “mucks”.

         “Hmm?”

         “Nux. It’s Nux, ma’am.” He answered.

         “No one is named ‘Nux’.” She hissed.

         “With all due respect, no one’s named Capable either.” He parried.

         Capable sniggered.

         “That’s because it’s her nickname. What’s your real name? Your birth name?”

         “I honestly don’t know. I’ve been Nux as long as I can remember.”

         Something in his eyes was sincere. Furiosa let him off.

         “Alright, _Nux_. Tell me. How did _this_ come about? Do you go to her school?”

         He scratched his neck. “No, ma’am, I don’t go to school.”

         “You don’t go to school.” She repeated in exasperated tone, rubbing her temple. “Then how the hell does a skinhead like you know my kid?”

         “He was digging through our trash one night.” Capable chimed in. “I’d gotten up to get a glass of water and I heard him. I thought it was an animal, but it was a boy.” She said sentimentally.

         “She brought me a glass too. And an apple.” He added. “When most people catch me scavenging, they threaten me, but she was kind. I... I’ll never forget it.”

         Capable stared down at her lap suddenly and flattened her nightgown. Furiosa noticed this sudden loss of poise.

         “Uh-huh...” She clicked her tongue. “So what is this now? He’s coming to your window like some Shakespearian romance?”

         “Mum.” Capable groaned. “It’s not like that. Don’t make assumptions just because I’m a girl and he’s a boy.”

         Nux was thumbing the glass uncomfortably, eyes averted. “I just came here because she’s the only one who’s shown me any generosity.”

         “He’s homeless, mum. He left his gang. He’s all alone.” Capable's voice lowered. “You know what that’s like.”

         Nux looked up at Furiosa tentatively.

         “Sure.” She yielded. “I know.”

         “Can’t he stay for a bit?” Capable asked. Nux turned and gazed at the redhead, with large eyes, and then at the woman across from him.

         Furiosa scowled and he shrunk back.

         “I’m not sure how I feel about a teenage boy in my house full of girls.” She stated.

         “I don’t think I even like girls in that way, to be honest.” He admitted sheepishly.

         “Ohhh?” Furiosa remarked. His ears turned red.

         “ _Mum_.” Capable moaned. “Don’t you trust me?”

         “Well, I did, but now I find out you were feeding a hoodlum behind our house without telling me.”

         Capable frowned. “You always tell us to help people in need.”

         “Not when it could put you, or all of us, in danger.”

         “I told you, he’s a nice boy.”

         “Even so, that gang of his is the opposite of “nice boys”... what if they come around here?”

         “He’s not with them, we told you!” Capable said.

         “You don’t exactly _leave_ a gang like that.”

         “How do you know?” Capable asked defensively.

         “Trust me. I know.” Furiosa replied darkly.

         Capable bit her lip and she dropped the subject.

         “I didn’t say I left,” Nux finally piped up. “I’m just... not _with_ them.” His eyes darted away.

         “Stop dancing around the subject.” Furiosa said authoritatively. “What happened?”

         “They kicked me out... or... I... I failed my initiation to join the higher ranks. I messed up. And I ran because I am a coward.”

         “You are not a coward.” Capable cooed. “You are a good person, that’s why you left.”

         “You are kind.” He said softly.

         “But none of _them_ will see it that way, and that’s why this is dangerous.” Furiosa clarified.

         “I’m so sorry, I should go.” Nux started to stand.

         “No! Stop!” Capable pleaded, jumping from her perch. Nux froze in alarm. “Mum, we can’t just let him go onto the streets. If it’s truly dangerous then by turning him away you could be sending him to death.” She turned to her guardian. “I don’t know about _you_ , but I can’t cope with that kind of blood on _my_ hands.”

         Furiosa stared back at her adopted daughter, who had now turned as fiery as her curls. This girl she had raised was now trying to protect this stray, in the same way Furiosa had decided to protect her own. Compassion had become contagious. Furiosa’s vexation turned to adoration. Capable had always possessed extreme empathy. Furiosa should have known was only a matter of time until she took a leaf from her caretaker’s book.

         “Capable.” She said gently. “If I decline all your requests to bring animals into the house, do you really think I’m going to let you keep a human boy?”

         “You don’t have to adopt him. Just let _me_ help him get back on his feet. Find a place to stay and make sure he has a meal.”

         Nux was staring at Capable in awe. It was clear that no one had ever spoken up on his behalf before.

         Furiosa sighed. “What’s in it for me?”

         “I can fix your car.” He offered.

         “He’s a black-thumb.” Capable added.

         “Do the plumbing. Handiwork around the house. Y’know, dumb boy stuff.”

         “Our house _is_ falling apart, mum.”

         “I-I-I’ll sleep on your porch. I’ll be a guard dog.”

         “He’s scrappy.”

         Furiosa waved her hand. “Alright, enough.”

         The pair tightened their mouths and gazed back with anticipation.

         “We do have the couch...” Furiosa thought out loud.

         “ _Mum, no.”_ Pleaded a voice, which then was shushed by another unseen entity.

         “Who is there?” Furiosa demanded loudly. “Cheedo?”

         “.... Yes, mum.” Cheedo replied.

         “And Toast.” The Dag’s voice added.

         “Wow, _thanks_.” Toast grumbled.

         “Alright, everyone stop lurking in the hall and come in here.”

         The three girls shuffled into the room, all shame-faced, except for the Dag.

         “No Splendid?”

         “She’s asleep.” Toast said, leaning against the door frame.

         “Yeah, despite _you lot._ ” The Dag quipped.

         “Your yelling woke us up and I got scared.” Cheedo whispered. She’d hidden herself behind the blonde.

         “What divine providence that we’d have one of those _hoon boys_ in our midsts tonight.” The Dag said pointedly at Nux, who winced as if he had been pricked by her words.

         “We saw _your people_ on the telly.” Cheedo told him, peering out.

         “ _Not with them anymore._ ” Capable and Nux said in unison.

         “And that’s why you got so bothered, huh Capable?” Toast pried with a smirk.

         Capable scowled, with flushed cheeks, and turned away.

         “Mum, he’s not gonna stay here, is he?” Cheedo moaned. “You’re not gonna let a skinhead sleep on the couch.”

         “Cheedo, what have I said about judging a book by it’s cover?” Furiosa replied.

         “Men can’t be trusted.” The Dag glowered. “Especially _those_ men.”

         “If I’m not welcome--” Nux started.

         “He’s not allowed upstairs.” Furiosa stated. “Does that make you feel better?”

         Cheedo and the Dag looked at each other, and then nodded slowly.

         “Now it’s very late, and all you girls have school tomorrow.” Furiosa stood up. “You’re not going to use this as an excuse to skip classes, so I suggest you go to bed. Now.”

         “What about Nux?” Capable asked.

         “Couch tonight.” Furiosa said sharply.

         Nux’s eyes sparkled and his posture straightened, as if he was being filled with new life. Capable squeezed his shoulder.

         “He and I will discuss his future plans while you’re at school.” Furiosa informed them. “I am not adopting another kid.”

         Nux nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, ma’am, of course.”

         “Alright, everyone to bed.” Furiosa shooed.

         The girls who’d been spying stomped up the stairs, chattering away.

         “G’night” Capable whispered, smiling at Nux as she followed her sisters. He gazed back, mouthing a word of gratitude.

         “OK boy-- er, _Nux._ I’ll grab you a blanket.” Furiosa mumbled, wondering how the hell she got herself talked into taking in another stray.

**Author's Note:**

> ETA: I know this says it's a completed work, but there will be more either as an additional chapter or another work in the series, I haven't decided yet. If you like it I suggest you bookmark for notifs when future chapters are out.
> 
> ETA 2: The friend who I wrote this for made me [a cute comic based on this AU](http://tooquirkytolose.tumblr.com/post/123596771395/au-where-cheedo-and-the-dag-tell-horrible-no-good) in return <3


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